


He Said . . . She Said

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Drama, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Series: The Lynda Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-02-20
Updated: 1999-02-20
Packaged: 2018-11-10 23:43:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11136996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: A 'missing scene' from 'To Quote Ray . . .', Derek and Lynda react to breaking up. This story is a sequel toProve It.





	He Said . . . She Said

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

_Author's Note: This is a 'missing scene' from 'To Quote Ray: "This Sucks"'. Takes place right after Lynda breaks up with Derek, but before the following day._   
  


He Said . . . She Said 

by Jackie 

pixie7@gte.net   
  


"If it is any consultation, Derek, I want you to know that I will forgive you." 

"When?" 

"I don't know. But until then, I think . . . I think it would be best if we don't see each other." 

"Are you serious?" 

"I've never been more serious in my life." Tears welled up in her eyes. "I'm sorry." 

Derek forced a sad smile. "Don't be. You have nothing to be sorry about." He choked back tears of his own. "When you're ready . . . you know where to find me." He reached his arms out, but Lynda backed away. 

"Please, let's just make this as easy as possible." She turned her back on him. 

Derek got the hint. He slowly walked out of the room, and out of Lynda's life. After he shut the door, Lynda collapsed to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably.   
  


* * * *

An hour later, Derek was sitting on his couch, pouring himself another glass of whiskey. His eighth one to be exact . . . or was it his ninth? He was so drunk, he'd lost count. Not that it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. The only thing that mattered had left him, never wanting to see him again. 

_How could I have been so stupid?_ he thought. _I led her on. Of course she was going to be upset. Of course she never wanted to see him again. It was all my fault. It was -_

"Meow?" 

Derek looked to his right to see his orange tabby, Dexter, sitting on the arm of the couch. The feline was peering closely at his master, trying to figure out what was going on. 

"Hey, Dex," Derek reached over and scratched the cat behind his ears. "Guess what. I'm a loser." He gulped down the rest of his drink, then threw the glass aside. It hit the floor, shattering into millions of pieces. "I'm an idiot." There was a loud knock on his door. Derek stumbled over to the door, then flung it open. He was surprised by the person on the other side. 

"Fraser?!" 

Fraser nodded. "May I come in?" 

Derek nodded slowly. "Yeah, I guess." 

"Thank you kindly." Fraser came into the small apartment and looked around as Derek shut the door behind him. "Nice place." 

"Thanks. But something tells me you're not here to discuss my living area." 

"No, actually I'm here to discuss Lynda." 

Derek snorted. "What's there to talk about? She hates me." 

"Yes, she does." He smelled the alcohol on Derek's breath. "How much have you drunk, Derek?" 

"Who cares?" Derek flopped onto the couch. 

Fraser took a nearby chair and put his Stetson on the coffee table. "You know, Derek, Lynda has every reason to be mad at you. You lied to her, tried to use her, made her think -" 

"I get the idea, Fraser," Derek interrupted. 

"She really does care for you, though, you know that?" 

"And how do you know that?" 

"She told me when I took her home." 

"How is she?" 

"About as well as can be expected," Fraser answered honestly. "She wanted to be alone, so I left her at her apartment with Diefenbaker. She's keeping things bottled up right now, but she'll talk when she's ready, just like her father would." 

"Fraser, can I ask you something?" 

"Sure." 

"Do you think I have a chance of getting back with her?" 

Fraser thought for a moment. "I don't know," he replied. "It all depends on both of you, I guess. If you truly care for each other, then it'll work out." 

"I don't want to lose her, Fraser. I . . . care about her so much." 

"Then don't give up on her. If you want to show her that you truly care for her so much, then you're going to have to prove that you can be the person she - as well as everyone else - thought you were." 

"How?" 

"First, and foremost, you're going to have to be totally and completely honest with her." 

"Okay, that I know." 

"Secondly, be patient. She's hurting right now, and most likely doesn't want to talk to you, so just be patient. Like her father, she can be pretty stubborn." 

"No kidding," Derek smiled briefly. "I'm not a bad person." 

"No, you're not, Derek. What you did you did because it was your job." 

"It still didn't make it right, though." He sighed. "Thanks." 

"My pleasure." Fraser stood up and grabbed his Stetson. "I take it tomorrow that you'll be by to get the disk?" 

"Unfortunately, yes." He yawned, and tried to stand up, but he was a little too drunk. 

"I'll show myself out," Fraser offered. "Goodnight." He turned to leave, but then stopped. "Oh, and one more thing." 

"Yeah?" Derek looked up. 

"Getting drunk is not going to help anyone . . . especially not yourself." He nodded before leaving the apartment.   
  


* * * *

Lynda had just finished picking up the glass shards and vacuuming where she had hit Agent Harrison over the head with the glass vase earlier that day. That was the only thing good about the entire day, giving the rogue FBI Agent fifty-three stitches in his scalp. Everything else \- her father getting shot and braking up with her boyfriend - were not good. 

She put away the vacuum in the hall closet, then went to the kitchen, where she prepared some camomile tea. She poured herself a small cup, then went into the living room, where she sat on her couch. Dief was lounging under her coffee table. 

"This bites," she said out loud. "The one time I meet a really terrific guy, he turns out to be a fake." She sighed as she put her cup down on the coffee table. "What am I going to do?" 

"Woof, woof!" 

"I don't know if I can," Lynda answered. "Derek probably hates me for breaking up with him . . . not that he should, considering. I mean, he did lie to me about who he was for three months. I have every right to be mad at him . . . then why do I feel so bad about what I did? Do I love him. I mean, honestly love him?" She didn't have to answer that. She already knew the answer. 

She rubbed her head as she stood up. "Regardless. Just because I love him, doesn't mean I can welcome him back with open arms . . . not just yet, anyway. I want Derek to know just how much he hurt me. If he really cares at all about any future relationship we could possibly have, then he's going to have to prove to me that he can be an honest person." She slowly sat back down. "Mom always used to tell me that trust is the one thing that takes so long to build up after it comes crashing down. That is so true. I want to be with Derek, but only after he can prove that he can be trusted again. However long that takes." She leaned her head back against some of the couch pillows and drifted into a deep slumber.   
  


THE END 


End file.
